


Actually, Bottom Line

by Chash



Series: Pulling Taffy [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Minor Monty Green/Nathan Miller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 00:30:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11543667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Everyone keeps telling Clarke that Bellamy's got a thing for her, but people love telling her that every guy who so much as smiles at her is romantically motivated. And she's seen Bellamy interested in people before. Just because he's trying out for the winter play, it doesn't mean it's about her.She's not going to get her hopes up.





	Actually, Bottom Line

"Nate said he and Bellamy were probably going to come and audition," Monty says, and even after almost a month, she still has a little trouble remembering that when Monty says _Nate_ , he means Miller. Which, honestly, doesn't even make sense, because she knew Miller before he went by his last name, back when he still was _Nate M_. But it's been so long since then, and everyone calls him Miller so aggressively that it's easy to just get sucked into it.

Still it's cute, when Monty calls him Nate, she has to admit. It's nice to see him happy.

None of which makes his statement any less surreal.

"Really?" she asks, making a face.

He shrugs in a purposefully casual way that lets Clarke know he realizes it's a big deal too. "Soccer starts a week after the show, they checked. No conflict."

"That wasn't really what was bothering me." He just cocks his head, so Clarke has to keep going. "Miller's shy and Bellamy's--Bellamy. I didn't think they were into drama."

"Are we talking about the same Bellamy?" Monty says, not unreasonably. Because, yeah, Bellamy would probably be a total ham, given the chance. He's charismatic and kind of a show off and loves being the center of attention.

Or he pretends to, anyway. The more time Clarke spends with Bellamy, the less sure she is he's anything like he wants people to think he is.

So drama might actually be a great fit for him. Better than it is for Clarke, who kind of defaulted into it when she didn't actually enjoy any of the sports she tried.

"Are they not worried about their reputations anymore?"

"Apparently not." He shrugs again. "They've been hanging out with drama kids. Miller is dating a drama kid. Also I think him coming out actually kind of helped with the football team? Which makes no sense, but I guess telling someone they're a cocksucker loses some appeal when it's true? He's not going to deny it so--"

"Don't try to understand assholes," Bellamy advises. Miller sits next to Monty, of course, which leaves Bellamy next to Clarke.

Their friends are not subtle about pairing them off, and Clarke wouldn't care at all, except that Bellamy isn't particularly subtle about it either, and that still makes her a little nervous. It's not that she's unpopular, just that there's a way to things. Bellamy is one of those guys she overhears girls giggling about in the bathroom. Even if he's not the stereotypical jock she's always taken him for, he's still--

Well, he's still not interested. Not really.

"If you gaze long enough into the abyss," he continues. 

"He who fights assholes must be careful not to become an asshole?" Clarke asks.

"Mostly just Monty," says Bellamy, with a shrug. "You can just let me fight the assholes for you. I'm already an asshole, so I'm safe."

"My hero," says Monty. "I wasn't sure you guys were really going to come."

"Remember how Bellamy named his sister after one of Caesar's relatives?" Miller asks.

"Wait, what?" asks Clarke, and to her delight, Bellamy's neck goes red. "Which relative?"

He rubs the back of his neck. "Emperor Augustus's sister."

"He's in the play," Miller adds. "Octavius Caesar. Not his sister, though."

"She's in _Antony and Cleopatra_ ," Bellamy says. "So--that's something."

Miller smirks. "Nerd."

"What's her name?" Clarke asks, and he ducks his head.

"Uh, Octavia."

"You named your sister Octavia? How old is she? How did that happen?"

"She's twelve," he says. "My mom was--"

Clarke doesn't manage to let him finish. "Wait, you named your sister after a Roman historical figure when you were _five_?"

"And?" he asks, gruff.

"That's adorable," she says, and he ducks his head, the flush on his neck climbing higher. "So, you're a _Julius Caesar_ geek? Is that what I'm hearing?"

"I like history," he says. "Classics. And Shakespeare. Besides, it seemed like you guys were having fun with the musical. I'm not doing anything else after school until soccer starts up. Might as well give it a shot, right?"

"Dude, you know you can just like stuff, right? You don't have to pretend you're too good for it," says Miller, mild, and Bellamy rolls his eyes. 

"I haven't done it yet. How am I supposed to know if I like it?" But he turns his attention to Clarke, which is always a lot to handle. It's not just that he's hot, although of course he is, it's that when he looks at you, you feel like the only person in the world.

Or maybe that's just her.

"So, tell me about the play," he says. "I read it, but just once, and I'm not always great with Shakespeare until I see it performed."

"What makes you think I know anything about it?" she asks, and he grins.

"I know you, princess," he says. "I'm pretty sure you did your homework."

"I'm not an expert or anything. I gave it a read. We don't audition for specific characters in this one, just do monologues, but I like to try to figure out who I might get cast as."

"Not a great play for female characters," he muses.

"Yeah, I think we'll end up with a lot of cross-casting."

"So who are you hoping for?" 

"Either of the wives would be fine, not that exciting. One of the conspirators would be cool. Cassius is probably going to a senior, but Casca, maybe." She can't help flashing him a grin. "Octavius."

"What about me?"

"I didn't know you were trying out, so I wasn't really thinking about casting you." But now she is, of course, mind turning over with possibilities. "I might go for Mark Antony."

"Yeah?"

"You're good at speeches. He has the best ones."

"Yeah, but I've never done any acting before. I heard there was a hierarchy."

"I'm guessing what you'd be good at, not how I think you're going to be cast. I haven't seen you act yet. You could suck."

"Thanks," he says, but he's smiling. "That's the monologue I picked. _O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth._ I wanted the one with the dogs of war," he adds, a little sheepish.

"You really did your homework on this one," she says, and feels bad for being surprised. Bellamy is a smart, dedicated guy, and there's no reason he wouldn't be dedicated to the play, if he wanted to do it. She just wasn't really expecting him to want to do that, apparently.

"It sounds fun," he says, his voice slightly off. "I want a part, so I should be good, right?"

"That's how it usually works. What about you, Miller?" she asks, realizing belatedly that they were off in their own little world. It makes sense, of course; Monty and Miller are usually focused on each other. But they didn't have to ignore them.

"I want to be Cinna the poet," he says, instantly. "Not that many lines, and I get killed because I got mistaken for someone else. Sounds awesome."

"I also want to be Cinna the poet," says Monty. "So we're probably breaking up."

"Shakespeare ruins lives," says Bellamy, somber, and Clarke has to smile.

It's kind of nice, having him and Miller around. Of course she knows other theater kids, but Monty is the only one she really considers a _friend_. And it's a little weird realizing she's closer to Bellamy and Miller than she is to, say, Riley Allen, who's been consistently cast as her love interest since freshman year. Miller, at least, has the Monty connection, but she still can't figure out why any of them started hanging out in the first place, let alone how they became friends. 

Wells and Monty think it's about her, of course. But that's how high school works. Hormones are the simplest solution to everything. But she's seen Bellamy with girls he's interested in, has seen him actually making a move on Roma Fletcher. He's not shy. 

So it was probably about Miller and Monty, which is cute. Even better than it being about her.

The four of them watch auditions, and she and Bellamy talk in low voices about the pros and cons of each person trying out. She's pretty sure Lincoln Arden will get Brutus, because he's a senior and definitely their best actor, but not too sure about anyone else. Murphy should probably get one of the big asshole parts, because she's all about type casting, and she's hoping that the senior girls will get the actual wife roles, and she can do a guy part.

It's alphabetical, so Bellamy is the first of her group to be called to the stage, and she can hear the wave of surprise passing through the rest of the crowd watching auditions. They probably thought he was just here for moral support, or out of boredom. No one seems to have expected to actually see him on stage.

"What's he trying to pull?" asks Finn, crossing the row of seats so he can lean over Clarke's shoulder.

"Nothing, he's auditioning," she says.

" _Bellamy_?"

Clarke doesn't get why Finn still tries to talk to her, after all the stuff that went down with Raven last year, except that media spends a lot of time telling mediocre white guys that if they just don't leave girls alone, they will eventually be rewarded with sex. Which is absolutely never going to happen.

"That guy's such a creep," he continues, and Clarke rolls her eyes.

"Takes one to know one. Be quiet, I want to hear this."

She and Bellamy have been in the same English class since ninth grade, so she knows he's a good reader when he wants to be. Even when he doesn't, he's got a knack for a particular _kind_ of reading, knows just how to deliver lines to get laughs. She's never seen him try for serious drama, but he has a flair for delivery.

And now he's really trying.

He clearly did his research, at least on this speech. Clarke's not an expert on the text, but she knows what's going on, and Bellamy does too. He's un-self-conscious in his presentation, throwing himself into the performance whole-heartedly. He sells grief and anger and self-loathing, all with an undercurrent of calculating manipulation, and Clarke has no doubt he could rouse the entire junior class to rebellion if he tried.

It's an incredible performance, and she knows she's not the only one left gaping. She was probably more prepared for it than the rest of the audience, actually. She knew he was talking it seriously.

"That this foul deed shall smell upon the earth," he finishes, savagely, "with carrion men, groaning for burial." And then, kind of adorably, he doesn't know what to do. He stands alone on the stage for a second, then ducks his head, not quite a bow, and gives the crowd half a smile. "Thanks," he adds, and jumps off the stage as the applause starts. 

Not that applause is uncommon; they applaud everyone. But there was a minor delay, this time, as everyone tried to comprehend that Bellamy Blake had just nailed his audition.

"That okay?" he asks, dropping back into his seat next to Clarke. He sounds actually _nervous_ about it, not fishing for compliments, but somehow genuinely unsure how he did. 

"You were amazing," she says, honest, and his grin is bright and wide and pure delight.

"Thanks." He slides down in the seat, resting his knees against Miller's seat in front of them. "So, who's next?"

*

Clarke does fairly well with her own audition, although she thinks she probably suffered by comparison, since she went with the _Friends, Romans, Countrymen_ speech, and Bellamy put out the Mark Antony to beat very early on. If there's any justice in the world, he's got the part, unless Ms. Hidaka thinks he's just a jock trying out as a joke.

But after the audition proper, they have a second day of just stage exercises, ice-breakers, and getting to know each other, so that Ms. Hidaka can get a sense of how they work as a group, and of course he's good at that too, a long-time team player who doesn't care about looking a little ridiculous when the need arises, and he fits in with the rest of them like he's been here the whole time.

It's possible Bellamy was actually _made_ for high-school drama. She can't believe she didn't see it sooner.

"Are you sure you need to go back to soccer?" she asks. The four of them are at Waffle House to celebrate the successful conclusion of the audition period. Clarke's next to Bellamy, because Monty and Miller of course need to be together, and it feels uncomfortably like a double date. Which it is not. "We could use you for the spring play too."

"Maybe that was a fluke," he says, but he's grinning. "I could still suck."

"You definitely suck," she teases.

"As always, your support means the world, princess," he says. "It is pretty fun, but Miller would cry if I left the soccer team."

"For sure," Miller agrees. "You're the only one for me, Blake. Sorry, Monty," he adds.

"I knew what I was getting into. I just accept your epic bro love. It's cool."

"Maybe next year," Bellamy adds, thoughtful. "Just Shakespeare, though. No way I'm doing the musical."

"No?"

"You really don't want to hear me sing."

"No, I totally do. That just makes me want to hear you sing more, honestly. Now I'm curious."

"Jesus, it's like you're incapable of just listening to me," he teases. "Take my word for it, I'm not a good singer."

"Depending on what the musical is, you could probably get a non-singing role. If you wanted."

He looks delighted. "You know, if you want to hang out more, all you have to do is ask."

"I just want the best possible shows."

"Only you would get competitive about high-school theater," he says.

"There's no way that's true."

The waitress comes over to top off their drinks, which reminds Clarke that Monty and Miller are there again. This is, honestly, the problem with Bellamy at his core: he's not interested in her. Not really. But he likes her, and it's so easy to like him back, to fall into chatting with him, laughing with him, enjoying his company. 

Which is a friend thing, and there's nothing wrong with being Bellamy's friend. She just needs to stop noticing his mouth and his eyes and his freckles and the tempting curl of his hair. That's dangerous. 

Bellamy's phone buzzes just after six, and he checks it, flicks his eyes to Miller. "I gotta take off. You coming with me?"

"They're walking home so, yeah, you're my ride." He pauses, looking around to check and see how crowded it is and if anyone is paying attention to them, before he leans over and pecks Monty on the lips. "See you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow."

"Later," Bellamy says, to both of them, and Clarke doesn't watch them leave. 

But Monty is smirking at her anyway. 

"He's good. Bellamy. Not that I'm surprised. But you know he's just trying out because he's got a thing for you, right? Like, it's not subtle. He just wants to hang out with you."

Again, it's not the first time Clarke's heard that. She thinks _he's only doing this because he likes you_ is probably the most common phrase girls hear up through college; any action any boy takes is thought to be motivated by not only attraction, but _feelings_. There is apparently nothing that cannot be explained by a boy liking her. When she got shoved in the mud, it was a crush. When someone offered to help her study for a test, it was because he wanted to date her. She and Wells are friends because Wells has a crush on her. Monty and Jasper made friends with her because they liked her. Bellamy sits next to her at lunch because he wants to be her boyfriend. And Finn Collins followed her around rehearsal sophomore year because he thought she'd go out with him.

That one was actually true, of course, which didn't make it any less shitty. It's the first and only time Clarke's ever bought into the _that guy has a crush on you_ hype, and it turned out he did have a crush on her, but was also dating someone else. 

So she's thinking she should just avoid relationships until college, honestly. Unless a girl shows up and is interested. Maybe girls wouldn't be as much of a headache to date. She hooked up with a girl at camp over the summer, and that went pretty well. And at least people don't just assume every girl in the world who smiles at her wants to date her.

Which is its own kind of shitty. But that's another issue.

"What are you expecting me to do with that?" she asks Monty. He'd been resisting the whole _Bellamy likes you_ thing, at least until he started dating Miller, and she's not sure if he knows something she doesn't based on his relationship, or if now that he's dating someone, he's just decided he needs something new to focus on, and she's it.

She wouldn't mind finding out which.

"Whatever you want," he says, with a shrug. "You could make out. Not to brag, but making out is pretty great. Boyfriends too."

"I don't have the best history with boyfriends."

"You don't have the best history with Finn," Monty counters. "That's not about boyfriends. He was an asshole. You don't actually think Bellamy's like that, do you?"

She doesn't even think before the word comes out. "No. Not like that. But--I don't know what he _is_ like."

"I asked Nate," says Monty. "If Bellamy was serious about you. And he said he was."

Clarke's heart lodges somewhere in her throat. It's not as if it was impossible, but-- _serious_ could mean all sorts of things.

"He's a good guy, and you know that," Monty continues. "He likes you, and you know that too. You don't have to do anything about it," he adds. "But--the denial thing is getting kind of old. So--yeah. I'm meddling. You drove me to it."

"It's not _denial_ ," she protests. "But he doesn't date."

"I didn't date either. People don't date until they do. It's not against his religion or anything." Monty worries his lip, and part of her wishes it wasn't _him_ doing this. That it was anyone else. She could ignore anyone else. "I think he'd date _you_. I think he wants to."

"Okay. Good to know."

They walk home in mostly silence, reaching Clarke's place first. He stuffs his hands in his pockets at the door, offering her a smile. "It doesn't have to be a big deal."

"No," she says. "Thanks, Monty."

"I'm always here to help my friends hook up with hot guys."

Clarke knows it's a slang thing. When Monty says _hook up_ , he means _date_. But it's an inconsistency within _just_ Monty, and that's before she gets into whatever Miller might have meant when he told Monty that Bellamy was _serious_ about her.

Or Monty's right, and the denial is getting old. She should figure out a different tactic.

But she still wants a second opinion.

**Me** : Does Bellamy have a crush on me?

**Wells** : Yes  
I'm keeping an eye on it

The reply comes when she's on her bed, working her way through _Moby Dick_ for English, and it instantly puts her in a better mood. It feels egotistical to say it, but she _does_ think Wells had a crush on her, for a little while. And it might have worked out, except that his came after her crush on him had already ended, when she'd realized her feelings were based more on a belief that they _should_ date, rather than actual feelings. 

So she's glad both of them have gotten over it and can now just have each other's backs.

**Me** : Keeping an eye on what exactly?

**Wells** : Him  
His whole deal

**Me** : Monty says he's serious about me

**Wells** : Monty would know  
I don't know  
I was pretty worried about it for a while  
Not that you can't take care of yourself, but   
I don't know

**Me** : Not helping

**Wells** : It's hard to get a read on him  
I'm still working on it  
But he talks to you more, so I figure you're the expert  
Did he say something?

**Me** : No, but Monty thinks I should

**Wells** : If you like him, you should, yeah  
I support you no matter what

**Me** : Yeah, I figured  
So unhelpful  
Just unconditional love

**Wells** : My bad  
Next time I'll threaten to disown you

**Me** : That's more like it  
Thanks

*

Bellamy gets cast as Mark Antony, and Clarke gets Caesar, which is kind of cool, if a little surprising. She gets to take the whole second half of the play off, at least. That's pretty exciting.

"You're probably going to get some gross jokes about getting stabbed by like thirty guys," Bellamy observes, making a face like he's smelling something rotten.

"Yeah, but Gaia's playing Calphurnia. Which is way better than me having to pretend I'm into Riley again." She can't help a huge grin. "Congratulations."

He ducks his head, a tell that's becoming familiar. Bellamy's not great with accepting compliments from people he likes, which was one of the first things she noticed about him at odds with his persona. She's been watching him in class for years, trying to get a handle on him. She knows he's intelligent, but up until this year, he was a quiet, kind of self-conscious intelligent that nagged at her. When he spoke in class, it was mostly sarcastic comments, but his GPA was one of the highest in the class. Now that he's hanging out with a bunch of known nerds, he's cooled off a little, is happier to contribute to conversations.

A lot of the time, that means fighting with her, but she's good with that. He makes good arguments.

The first time she told him that was the first time she realized how much of his presentation was pure bravado, because he had to take a second to recover from the compliment before he got his smirk back on straight.

Just like now.

"You're the one who's playing the the title character," he says. "Isn't that a bigger deal?"

"I die halfway through."

"So it's even cooler that you're impressive enough to have the play named after you."

"Clearly. Maybe if you're good enough, Ms. Hidaka will go with _Antony and Cleopatra_ next year, and you can upgrade to title character."

"Yeah, you really want to keep your Shakespeare continuity." He worries his lip, looking her up and down. It's the kind of look that she wants to read into, but it's all curious concern, checking in with her. "You're happy, right? That's a good part."

She has to smile. He's kind of a mother hen, which is another unexpected thing. "Yeah, I'm happy. It's going to be fun. I always wanted Lincoln to betray and murder me."

"Glad your dreams are coming true." He clears his throat, a little awkward. They have, admittedly, been generally a little awkward since Clarke's conversation with Monty, which is a weird thing to think, because Clarke didn't think they were really in such good shape. But, looking back on it, she thinks that they got into a pretty good friend groove, after the first play. They're better at getting along with each other than they are at fighting, even if they still sort of like to fight. But now they're in kind of a weird limbo, where Clarke's ease with him has hit a speed bump, and he's noticed, and neither of them is mentioning it. 

"At least Miller got Cinna," she offers. "We actually got really lucky with casting."

"And Monty didn't dump him," he agrees. "Best possible outcome, honestly."

Clarke nods, and they lapse back into quiet. It's probably not actually an awkward silence, but it feels that way to Clarke, like she should be saying something more.

"So, I can inject some homoeroticism into this, right?" Bellamy finally asks, and Clarke chokes. If he notices, he shows no sign, just goes on, "Or does you being Caesar make it automatically hetero?"

"It depends on what you're doing. What are you doing?"

"Well, Mark Antony is pretty torn up about Caesar, right? I could lean into some subtext for that. It's what Shakespeare would want."

"Definitely what Shakespeare would want. Are you jealous of my wife? Did we have a thing, and then I got married?"

"I bet I could come up with a lot of great triumvirate pickup lines about us having a threesome," he muses, and Clarke laughs.

"Finally, all those years of Latin class pay off."

"And you won't get them because you're taking French," he says, shaking his head. 

She pats his arm. "Genius is never appreciated in its own time."

"Can't wait to be a posthumously renowned Latin nerd. Just like A. E. Housman."

"I can't believe you know a posthumously renowned Latin nerd off the top of your head."

"I think he was actually a pretty well-known Latin nerd when he was alive. But he had to wait until he was dead to get appreciated as an English poet."

"You really do have layers, huh?"

"Apparently." He gives her half a smile, boyish and a little nervous, so stupidly _attractive_. He is hot, of course, but Clarke's found that's not the best word for him, because it's more than that. He's cute too, endearing. There's just something _appealing_ about his face, something Clarke can't stop trying to pin down. 

Which is, right there, the real problem with Bellamy: whether or not he's serious about her, she's inescapably serious about _him_ , serious in a way she hasn't been in a long time. She might not have ever been like this, because she liked Wells and Finn as _ideas_ , mostly. They seemed like they'd be good boyfriends.

Bellamy feels like the best is yet to come, and she already likes him. And that's terrifying.

"Clarke?" he prompts, and she realizes he was _talking_.

"Sorry, what?"

He pauses, coloring a little. "You know what, never mind. Moment's over."

"There was a moment? I missed it?"

He bites the corner of his mouth, and she _does_ like him. So much. It really shouldn't be a problem, since it might really be mutual, but that means something really could _happen_. Something good.

"I was just saying, uh--I'm excited. For the play. I think it's going to be fun. I'm glad I could fit it in."

Clarke cocks her head, surprised by the sentiment. "Before soccer, you mean?"

"Yeah. And--I babysit my sister a lot after school," he adds, after a second, like he's deciding whether or not it's worth saying. "So I had to make sure she was taken care of."

"Isn't twelve old enough to be home alone?"

He shrugs. "Maybe, but--I don't want her to feel lonely, I guess. It's tough not having someone to come home to."

Rehearsal won't start for another five minutes or so; they arrived right after school, but Ms. Hidaka recognizes that people need time to get over, so she waits fifteen minutes to start actual rehearsals. They're not _alone_ in the auditorium, but they're private, and she's curious.

"Your parents?" she asks, tucking her hair behind her ear as she watches him.

He looks surprised. "You don't know?"

"Know what?"

"A surprising number of asshole football players care that my mom's never been married and I don't know who my dad is. I sort of figured it had gotten around."

"That's what you guys fight about?" she asks, disgusted. "I just thought you must be at least a little bit of a dick to them too. Not to be, like--I didn't think you had it coming or anything. But--"

"Sometimes I pick fights," he supplies, and she smiles.

"I wanted to punch you at least three times sophomore year."

"Yeah? What about this year?"

"Just yelling is fine."

"Moving up in the world," he says, but he looks pleased. "I used to like fights," he adds, looking thoughtful. "I was pissed off about--my mom works all the time, I never had a dad, nothing special." He waves his hand, like he's dismissing some pretty reasonable things to be upset about as trivial nonsense. "And it was good to have an excuse to hit someone I didn't feel bad about hitting."

"So what changed?"

"Miller."

"Miller?"

"He figured out what I was doing and started hanging out to have my back. So I'd feel shitty for getting him involved, and it didn't help anymore." 

"But you're still pissed off?"

"Not as much." She can see his throat bob as he swallows. "I'm, uh--I'm trying to just be myself. Instead of worrying about anyone else's opinions. And that's helping."

"So, this is the real Bellamy?"

"Working on it, yeah."

Ms. Hidaka claps on stage, getting everyone's attention, and the two of them jump. 

"All right, everyone! We're starting with warmups and then we'll start a read through, so everyone on stage!"

Clarke stands and stretches, and Bellamy does the same. She's in the aisle seat and he's next to her, so she's got control over when they leave, and she lets herself say, "I like the real Bellamy," before she heads up to get on stage.

He doesn't respond, but he sits down next to her, close enough their legs are touching, and she smiles.

*

Clarke's always enjoyed acting. She doesn't think she's great at it, definitely has no future in Hollywood, but she really likes being a theater kid. She fits in pretty well, and she likes the thrill of performance, the camaraderie, the whole atmosphere.

And, like most things, she likes it better with Bellamy around. They aren't in a ton of scenes together, because he really kicks into high gear after she dies, but that just means she can sit back stage and watch him when she's not involved. He really is magnetic, one of the most convincing orators she's ever seen, and they have a natural, easy chemistry when they're together that she's pretty sure _is_ going to read as a little flirty, but Ms. Hidaka doesn't seem to mind.

Which is probably good, because she's not doing it on purpose, and she's not sure how to stop. She's been _trying_.

"So," says Raven, as Clarke sits with her in the lighting booth, watching the fourth act. "You and Bellamy Blake?"

It's like a sickness, her inability to just talk about it. "What about us?"

"You like him, right?"

It's an easier question than the usual, because it's about _her_. "Yeah."

Raven nods. "We hooked up, after the Finn thing. Me and Bellamy."

Clarke's blood runs cold. "Fuck, Raven, I didn't know, I--"

"Relax," she says. "I'm not pissed. It was a hookup. If I was pining away for Bellamy, I wouldn't be dating Wells."

That makes her smile. "Yeah, you better not be."

Raven shifts a little, and Clarke watches her, trying not to feel weird. She knows the Finn thing wasn't really her fault: she didn't know he was dating Raven, and once she found out, she broke it off. The Wells thing threw her at first, a protective worry that Raven didn't really like _him_ so much as she was holding a grudge against Clarke, but she got over that quickly, realized she was being a self-centered jerk, and she's happy for them now. Two of her favorite people love each other, and it's hard to get upset about that.

But it still feels like the Finn thing will never stop being this odd lump between them, and that sucks.

"So, you hooked up with Bellamy?"

"Yeah. It's fun. Recommended."

Clarke draws her knees up, watching him, Monty, Lincoln, and Anya on the stage. He's mostly off-book by now, but he still acts like he's not, because the only other person who's off book is Riley, and he's a dick about it even though he only has like ten lines.

"I don't really want to hook up with him," she says. "I mean, I do, but--"

"Yeah," says Raven. "I figured. I was at a party, I asked if he wanted to make out. That was it. I knew that was what he did at parties." Clarke tries not to wince, but it doesn't work, and Raven bumps her knee. "I don't think he does it any more. That's my point."

"He did it at Halloween," says Clarke. She wonders if he can feel her eyes boring into him, but if he can, he shows no sign of it.

It's nothing she has any right to be upset about, Halloween. It was just a shitty night that got shittier as it went on, and having Bellamy try to come and comfort her felt like it should be the turning point. She'd thought he really might like her then, and she'd let herself imagine him giving her a hug, making her feel better.

And he had been, until their usual banter suddenly turned barbed. It wasn't unfamiliar, wasn't even that _bad_ , because fighting with Bellamy about whether or not Roan Crispin had been a bad asshole or a good asshole was fun too. But then he made a few remarks about rich kids that hit too close to home, she struck back harder than he deserves, and the moment shattered. She found him making out with Roma after they parted ways, and it stung. _She_ didn't want to make out with anyone, after the night she'd had. So she decided she and Bellamy dealt with feelings in different, incompatible ways, and moved on with her life.

Aside from the way she can't stop liking him.

"That's what's bothering you?" Raven asks, not sounding impressed. "He made out with someone else? When you guys weren't dating?"

"No, of course not," she says. "Not--I'm not jealous. I just don't know what he's looking for. If he just--sex doesn't seem like a big deal for him."

"Yeah, not really," Raven agrees. "But that doesn't mean relationships aren't. Look, there's a big difference between the guy he is at parties and the guy he is with you. And I'm pretty sure _you're_ the difference. How he is with you. You should see how he looks at you. You sit down and I swear I can see him counting to ten before he goes over." She pauses. "Not that you don't do the same thing, but I figured you knew that."

Clarke feels herself starting to smile, just a little, reluctantly. "I don't count."

"Yeah, it's better to estimate."

She drops her head onto Raven's shoulder, and Raven leans her head back against Clarke's. "I don't like crushes."

"Yeah, no one does. But I'd bet actual money he wants to be your boyfriend. And if he doesn't, he's probably not going to be a dick about it. He's not that guy."

"No, he's not." She buries her face against Raven's shoulder. "Fuck. I like him _so much_."

"That's how it's supposed to be. You don't want to be wasting time with people you're just kind of into. Go for the one you can't thinking about. We're way too young to be settling."

"I'm pretty sure you should never settle. And it's not like I'm going to marry him."

"Yeah, probably not. But you might as well see if you want to, right?"

Bellamy's done with his scene, and she can see him looking around. He spots Miller right away and keeps going, which means he's probably looking for _her_.

But when he doesn't spot her, he settles in next to Miller, jostling his shoulder, and Miller jostles back, and the two of them grin, and nothing ever prepared her for the reality of Bellamy Blake. Including Bellamy Blake himself.

"Yeah," she tells Raven. "Only one way to find out."

*

If she were a different kind of person, she'd probably just go and ask him on a date immediately, because there's no time like the present. But when she gets to him, he and Miller have been joined by Gaia, Echo, Monty, and Finn, and Echo is asking him for help with homework, and even though he flashes Clarke a smile when he sees her and moves over so she can sit next to him, it still feels like the wrong time. It would be making such a big deal to ask him if she could talk to him in private. They're _friends_. She's going to have plenty of opportunities to ask him out.

But it's so easy to come up with excuses not to say something.

When they're in study hall, she doesn't want to lose the time they're using to work on their biology homework. When they're hanging out backstage, she doesn't want anyone else to overhear them. When they go to Waffle House after rehearsal, they're with other people, and even if they're almost always together, they're not _alone_.

"I'm going to do it," she tells Wells and Monty on Saturday, a week and a half later. 

"Hey, you're only hurting yourself," says Monty, unconcerned. "You're the one who could be making out with Bellamy Blake and isn't."

"Maybe you could be making out with Bellamy too," she says. "You haven't asked. Any of us could potentially make out with Bellamy."

"Why would I make out with Bellamy when I can make out with Nate any time I want to?"

It's one of those questions that is simultaneously legitimate and completely bizarre, because Clarke doesn't understand why anyone would ever make out with Miller instead of Bellamy, but that's how it _should_ be. Romance would be hard if everyone in the world wanted to make out with the same people. Bellamy can't be everyone's first choice.

"I'm going to talk to him," she says. "That's all I'm saying. I'm working on it."

"I believe you," says Wells. "This stuff takes time."

"True," Monty agrees. He pauses for effect; it's so obvious. "But if you want to hurry it up, Nate said they're going to be at a party tonight and we're invited."

Somehow, her first impulse is to play it cool and act like she doesn't care, even though she's literally been talking about how she likes Bellamy, wants to see him, and is planning to make a move on him. There's no point in denial at this point. Everyone knows. 

So instead she asks, "Did he say Bellamy is going to be there? Do you guys gossip about us?"

"Just when we're not busy making out." He pauses. "It's not like there's a lot to gossip about. You guys are into each other and we've done all we can. It's up to you now. But, yeah, he'll be at the party, you guys can hang out there and come up with new excuses to not make out. Which is at least fun for me. You can bring Raven too," he adds, to Wells. "The more the merrier."

"Whose party is it?"

"Kyle Wick, I think?"

Wells makes a face. "Yeah, we're out. Raven doesn't like him. But you can text me updates about how Clarke and Bellamy's non-courtship."

"I'm going to snapchat it, yeah. I think that's the right medium."

"Maybe your total lack of support is why I'm still single."

"You wish you could blame us," says Monty, fond. "You're in, right?"

"Yeah, I'm in."

They play video games and talk shit until Jasper shows up to drive them over to the party. He and Monty have agreed that Monty will drive them back, because he has a boyfriend and doesn't need to get drunk to have a good time (per Jasper), and Monty says that's cool with him, but Clarke is still planning to remain sober, just in case. Sometimes Monty _plans_ to not drink and just--fails. And Clarke doesn't mind being the DD, if she has to be.

The party is already going when they arrive, a crush of teenagers and hormones that hits Clarke like a physical blow as soon as they open the door. There's nothing quite like a party, and she's honestly grateful for that.

"Nate says they're with the video games!" Monty shouts over the din, and then somehow _finds_ the video games immediately, like some sort of nerd wayfinder. Nate's on the couch and Bellamy is leaning against the wall, talking to Echo, which makes Clarke immediately self-conscious. She shouldn't just _interrupt_.

So she returns his smile and sits down on the couch with Monty and Jasper, squeezing in, pretending she's not watching Bellamy out of the corner of her eye.

He can hook up with Echo if he wants. That's his business. 

But it only takes about a minute for him to come over and sit on the floor by her feet, leaning back to look up at her. "Did you get a drink?"

"Not yet."

"Cool, I need a refill. Want to come?"

They make their way back down the hallway, where people are attempting to talk over the music, which is at least an improvement over them making out in the hallway, and then to the kitchen, which has a keg and a bunch of semi-drunk teenagers.

"I might do water," she says. "Monty's supposed to drive home but I'm not convinced he's going to stay sober."

"Cool." He grabs two solo cups, scoops them full of ice, and fills them from the tap. "My mom's working late tonight," he adds. "So I need to be good to get my sister if anything happens."

"Like what?"

He shrugs. "She's at a sleepover. They could have a fight. I don't know. Sleepovers always seem risky."

"Just being safe?" she asks, hopelessly charmed. The amount of time he spends worrying about his sister seems a little excessive to her, but--it _is_ sweet. He's such a stealth good guy.

"It's not like the beer is great anyway." He coughs and looks away, voice going gruff when he asks, "You want to go sit outside? It's probably quieter."

Her heart is back in her throat, nerves in full force. There isn't going to be an excuse now. They'll be alone, and she could talk to him.

"Yeah," she says, and slides into the back yard when he opens the door.

It's a little cold, but Clarke is aware that they live in Georgia, and it never gets that cold, relatively speaking. And it's nice to be outside, in private and quiet.

"How long have you been here?"

"At the party? Uh, I guess we got here like half an hour ago?"

"And you already want to run outside?"

He hops up to sit on top of a picnic table, and Clarke joins him, legs brushing. "I wanted you to get here," he says, and it somehow hadn't occurred to her that this was an opportunity for both of them. That this could be his chance to say something, and save her the trouble.

"I'm pretty sure you're never hurting for company," she says, voice light. Testing the water.

He glances at her, mouth quirking up in a small smirk. "I fucked up, right? At Halloween. Miller told me I shouldn't worry about it, but I didn't believe him."

"I would have made out with you if I knew you were looking," she admits, and his laugh is soft.

"Not--that's not what I was looking for from you," he says, and then instantly, "Uh, fuck, obviously I want to--I'm definitely interested in--"

And it's suddenly so easy to laugh, to lean in and take his cheek and kiss him.

Clarke's first kiss was Wells, when they were eleven, and she told him they should try it, just to get it over with. Then there was Finn, and Lexa last summer. It's not much experience, but it feels sufficient. She knows what she's doing, and Bellamy is smiling against her mouth, one hand on her elbow as he presses closer.

It's a great kiss.

"I was getting the impression you were trying to say you wanted to kiss me," she teases.

"Yeah, I really do." He leans in again, mouth warm, hand tangling in her hair, and half of her wants to climb into his lap, even if they're in a classmate's back yard. She just wants to be closer. "I'm not looking for a hookup," he adds. "Not--"

She laughs, relieved even though she knew, tucking her face against his neck. "I was kind of worried you didn't date."

"I haven't before, I guess. But I really want to." He kisses her hair, wrapping his arm around her to pull her in close against him. "You, specifically. I've heard I'm kind of pathetic."

"Your best friend is Miller. I'm pretty sure he tells you that all the time."

"Yeah, but from Monty too. The rest of the soccer team. Random people on the street. Basically everyone in the world." She laughs again, and they're definitely snuggling on Kyle Wick's picnic table in _February_. 

And it's really nice.

"I got that too, if it helps."

"It does, yeah. I don't want to be the only pathetic one."

She presses her lips against his collarbone. "I came here tonight because I've been trying to ask you out for like two weeks, and I kept coming up with excuses to not do it."

"You still haven't done it," he teases.

"I did kiss you. So it's probably your turn."

"You did." He tilts her chin up to kiss her again. "Hey, do you want to go on a date with me tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Unless you want to leave and go on a date tonight. As soon as possible, honestly."

"I could do lunch tomorrow," she says. "But I still want to make out tonight."

"Perfect," he says. "It's a date."

*

"Are you just doing this for me?"

Bellamy is looking vaguely nauseated as Clarke touches up his hair and makeup, so she figures the conversation will be a good distraction for him, an assumption that's confirmed when he shoots her a mild glare.

"You said I had to get makeup."

"Not the makeup. The play. Monty said you were just trying out because you had a thing for me. Was he right?"

"Not _just_ ," he protests, and she grins. "Seriously. You were, uh--a motivating factor."

"Uh huh." 

"But if I thought it would suck, I wouldn't have done it. Theater always seemed fun, so--" It's his turn to grin. "Honestly, you were a great excuse for why I was interested."

"So, you wanted to do theater and figured you could preserve your reputation if you said you were just doing it to get in my pants."

"I never said that, people just assumed. That's the beauty of a well-built reputation," he adds, because he's the biggest nerd in the entire world. "Once you've cultivated it, it basically maintains itself."

"Wow. I honestly have no idea how you ever convinced anyone you're a cool badass and not, you know. You."

"Shut up. I'm totally a cool badass."

"The coolest badass I know," she agrees, finishing off his hair. "Okay. We're good. You look perfect. Ready?"

"Kind of terrified," he admits.

"Well, don't worry. Your first scene is with me. I've got you."

That gets the grin back, bright and warm, and Clarke has to lean down to kiss him, just quickly, careful of their makeup. Just because he's actually her favorite, and she still doesn't quite believe it's real.

When she pulls back, he takes the opportunity to push her hair back from her temple, smile gone soft. "Yeah," he agrees. "You've got me."


End file.
